Procedural error
by WhyAye
Summary: What happened after "Allegory of Love" when Ginny Harris went to trial.
1. Chapter 1

"You're looking very sharp today, Sir." DS James Hathaway admiringly surveyed the dark, blue-black suit worn by his boss, DI Robert Lewis. Against his crisp, white shirt, a royal blue tie nicely picked up the blue in the older man's eyes.

"Ginny Harris's trial starts today. I'm the star witness for the prosecution." Lewis thought a moment. "You should see if the Chief Super will let you go. I think she's planning to go, to watch me get her friend put away for life."

Hathaway remembered the case like it happened yesterday, although in fact nearly five months had passed since they arrested the unbalanced woman after she confessed to killing two people. One of them had been her foster son and former sex partner, an aspect that both men had found repellant. The other had been an innocent woman, whom Ginny had mistaken for someone else.

"Who's the prosecutor?"

"Robert Marks, and the prosecuting barrister is Tiffany Ambrose. He's getting too old to be doing this, he must be over ninety by now, and doesn't do anything to help the barrister as far as I can tell. I think he slept through the last trial I saw him at. And she's a bit of a newbie, from what I understand. I guess they figured with Ginny's confession this won't be that hard of a case."

"Hmm. I haven't heard of her. I'll see if I can find out anything from Blair." Hathaway's friend from school, Blair Crandall, had been with Crown Prosecution Services for years, a connection Hathaway often found useful.

"Well, I have to get to court. I expect we'll be done in just a few days, there isn't a lot of evidence other than mine and Doctor Hobson's testimony. Maybe I'll see you there."

"Yeah, I'll check with Innocent as soon as I get this text off to Blair."

Lewis had reviewed his expected testimony with Marks and Ambrose just the week before so he did not need to be in court until after the jury was empanelled. In fact, since he would testify after Hobson, he might not even be needed until the second day of trial. But he knew his early arrival would reassure the rookie barrister, especially since his testimony was essential for a conviction.

He had bought a newspaper on the way and he settled down on a bench outside the courtroom. _Voir dire _could take a while, he knew, especially for a murder trial, with both barristers wanting to be sure they had winnowed out any potential jurors who would be biased against their side. He had peeked in to see who Ginny's defense counsel was, and unhappily recognized Sir Winston Bellingwood, arguably the best at criminal defense in southern England. He wondered where she had gotten the money to hire him. And how Ambrose would fare against his considerable talent. Still, the evidence was there. And maybe the jury would be sympathetic with the young barrister.

Someone sat down on the other end of the bench. He glanced up, and was a bit surprised to see Doctor Hobson there.

"Well, Laura, don't say good morning or anything." He smiled broadly. She was looking very professional in a dark suit jacket and trousers. A bit of lace peeked out at her décolletage. _She looks good in everything_, he found himself thinking.

She started at his voice. "Robbie! I didn't realize it was you. You got a new suit!"

He couldn't help being pleased that she noticed. "The old 'good suit' doesn't fit quite right anymore. I think it shrank in a couple places." He made a wry face.

"Well, the new 'good suit' fits quite nicely. You look very elegant."

He beamed. "Thanks. You're looking rather smart yourself." He wanted to say "dishy" but was fairly certain that was not the look she was striving for and thought she might not appreciate the comment.

"Why, thank you. But these shoes are killing me."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

The jury was not sworn until some three hours later, and then the judge called for a lunch break. After that, the barristers made their opening arguments and Doctor Hobson was called to the witness box. Lewis stayed out of the courtroom so there would be no question about him trying to make his testimony conform to hers. Anyway, he already knew the facts she would be giving, and they were not especially pleasant. He hadn't seen Hathaway so, on the assumption his sergeant was still at the station, Lewis rang him on his mobile to see if he had heard from Crandall.

"Hi, I was wondering if you'd heard from Blair about this Tiffany Ambrose." Lewis knew Hathaway would know from the caller ID who was calling.

"Yeah, he just answered with a couple smilies. Only, they weren't smiling. One was a frown and one was an eyeroll. You haven't testified yet?"

"No, she just now put Hobson on. I have a feeling I came over here today for nothing. But that's how these things go. Wait til it's your turn." He thought for a moment. "How would you interpret that frown and eyeroll? Doesn't sound good."

"That's my read. Good luck with her."

"You're not coming over?"

"No, Innocent had already left by the time I went to ask. I took that as a 'no.'"

Laura's testimony was over in an hour and she came out shaking her head. "That woman is going to lose this case. Bellingwood is all over her, and the jury is eating out of his hand."

Lewis heard his name called and went in before the usher had to come looking for him. Lewis had sat Blair Crandall down one day for a list of things he should know about trials, and _Don't piss off the court officers_ was in the top five.

He mounted the steps to the witness box and was sworn in. Tiffany Ambrose looked even younger to him now than when he met her. And Bellingwood looked utterly confident, though it took someone experienced in evaluating other people's demeanor to see it. Lewis knew that, to the jurors, Bellingwood appeared earnest and hopeful, and nothing more.

He looked around the courtroom. The judge, in red, sat at the long bench to his left. Lewis was unfamiliar with this particular judge; he was new to the region. But he sat with the posture of one with plenty of experience.

The jury sat across from Lewis. The twelve men and women sitting there looked politely interested in the new witness, they all were studying him. He avoided staring directly at any of them.

To his right sat the attorneys: Bellingwood in his wig and black robe and the two solicitors in the row behind that. And behind them, centered between the opponent counsel, was the dock. Ginny sat there with a custody officer. She did not look at Lewis.

Tiffany Ambrose was already on her feet, approaching Lewis. He didn't have time to scan the public gallery to see if Chief Superintendent Innocent was there. But he imagined she and Alice--Ginny's intended victim--were probably there and were also watching him.

Ambrose ran Lewis through standard background questions: his name, his rank, how long he'd been a detective, and so on. Then she started into the substance of the case. First, he had to provide the information about the deaths and the crime scenes. This went fairly smoothly, but there were times when he wanted her to ask the question in a slightly different manner so he could provide more details. Yet he had learned through experience what Crandall had identified as the cardinal rule of being a witness: _Never provide more information than is being requested. Just answer the question_. He knew a good barrister would have a detailed plan about what information should be revealed in what order. If the witness messed up the order, the story would not get told the way the barrister wanted and an inexperienced barrister like Ambrose could end up forgetting to ask a vital question. So he answered only what was asked and hoped that the missing bits wouldn't confuse the jury too much.

At last she approached the events leading up to Ginny's arrest. As soon as she made it clear she was shifting topics, she was interrupted by the judge.

"Counsel, how much longer do you anticipate you need for this witness?" The clock was approaching four. Lewis felt a little, happy boost when he recognized that the judge, who hadn't spoken to this point, had a soft, Geordie accent.

"At least another hour, my lord."

"Then we will stop for today. You can resume your examination of the witness tomorrow at nine. The witness may step down." The judge excused the jury, reminding them not to talk about the case at all, then he stood and swept from the bench.

_Another hour of this! Then cross-examination, then redirect._ Lewis groaned inwardly as he thought about how tired he would be when it was all done. And he'd have to find another tie to go with his good suit.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

"And when there was no answer at the door, what did you do?"

"My sergeant and I went around the house and into the garden."

"What did you find there?"

"Ginny Harris was there, digging a hole in the ground with a spade. There was a decorated wooden box on the ground next to where she was digging."

"Did she say anything to you?"

"Objection, my lord! Hearsay." Bellingwood stood up. He looked as if he was sorry to interrupt the examination but unfortunately had to.

Lewis furrowed his brow. He knew better than to say anything until given the go-ahead. He didn't understand all the legal jargon, but he knew he regularly gave testimony like this-what the defendant said and did. Yet Ambrose seemed stumped by the interruption. She flashed a visual call for help at Marks but the old man's half-lidded eyes missed it.

"Um, my lord," she stammered, "it's, ummmm, not hearsay, my lord."

The judge smiled indulgently. "Quite right. Objection overruled. The witness may answer the question."

Bellingwood remained on his feet. "My lord, I would like to make an evidentiary motion. May counsel approach the bench?"

He clearly had the judge's interest. "Certainly."

Lewis could not hear the whispered conversation that took place between the attorneys and the judge. But the judge raised his head and looked at the jury.

"We legal folks need to work something out for a minute. Jurors, the usher will take you to the jury room and he will bring you back in as soon as we're ready. You have about a five- or ten-minute break."

As soon as the jury was out, the remaining "legal folks" all looked at Lewis. He felt his scalp prickling a bit at the unwelcome attention, and noticed Ginny was now staring directly at him, a slight smile on her face.

Bellingwood spoke. "My lord, may I _voir dire _the witness?"

"Yes, that would resolve things the quickest, I believe."

"Thank you, my lord." He approached Lewis, and his self-assurance was alarming.

"Mister Lewis, when you and your sergeant approached my client in her garden, did you identify yourselves as police officers?"

Lewis blinked in an effort to recall the details of the day. "We didn't need to. She already knew we were detectives."

"Did you suspect her then of being the murderer?"

"Yes, I did."

"How certain were you? Did you _know_ she was the murderer?"

"I guess that's fair to say. Everything fit together as soon as I realized it was her." He didn't like winging it without legal advice. Where was Bellingwood going with this?

"Would you have let her leave the garden if she chose to do so, rather than talking to you?"

"No, I think I would have tried to stop her."

"So she was not free to go?"

A sinking feeling, like the kind you get when there's one more step down than you expect, or when the chair isn't quite where you are about to sit.

"Well, she didn't try to leave, so I'd be only guessing that I would have tried to stop her." But it was too late to undo the harm.

"She was for all purposes being detained, wasn't she? When did you caution her? Please remember you are still under oath."

Lewis swallowed slowly. "We hadn't brought her to the station yet."

"But that wasn't my question, was it, Mister Lewis? Was she free to go, or was it your intent to detain her?"

"I would have stopped her from leaving."

"And back to my question: when did you caution her?"

Lewis looked away. "I . . . I didn't caution her."

"Then, when did your sergeant caution her?"

_Shit_. "He . . . didn't caution her, either." He tried to look neutral, but he knew a skilled advocate like Bellingwood could tell exactly what was going through his head. And he could hear a scolding voice in the back of his head, one he hadn't thought about in a long time: "_Lew-issss_." Morse would have been ashamed of him.

"And did she just start speaking spontaneously, or did you ask her questions and she answered them?"

He could not conceal his resignation. "We asked her questions. The only thing she said before we started asking was that she was burying Dorian's childhood."

The barrister looked curious. "You are aware of the statutory requirement to caution a suspect about her right to silence before interviewing her?"

"Yes, of course." He struggled to not sound sullen.

"Would you say you erred in not so cautioning my client before asking her about her involvement in the murders?"

"Whether that was legally a procedural error is not really for me to say, Sir."

"Fair enough. I'll rephrase. If you could do it over, would you do it differently?"

Lewis hesitated. But Bellingwood had scored his point. "No further questions for the witness. My lord, I move to suppress all the statements my client made during this garden encounter. The officers failed to advise her of her right to silence, yet they interviewed her about her involvement in two serious crimes in disregard of that right."

The judge's eyes went to Ambrose. "Miss Ambrose? Your response?"

Lewis knew she would be unable to counter the blow. Even a skilled barrister would likely be forced to concede that the arresting officers-himself and Hathaway-had cocked up the arrest. He didn't dare search the public gallery now. Innocent would be furious. Although, to be fair, she was there too, and she hadn't mentioned the need for a caution, either.

"The motion is granted. Miss Ambrose, you may not examine the witness about anything the defendant said from the point of the garden encounter until whatever point she was later cautioned, if that was ever done. Usher, please recall the jury."

Tiffany Ambrose had very little left to ask Lewis. Ginny had retained Bellingwood almost immediately upon arriving at the station, and from then on, she admitted nothing. Lewis was able to answer questions about what led to him suspect her, but his answers-implicating the involvement of a quote from Oedipus and a South American work of fantasy literature-sounded speculative and fanciful. And that was _before_ Bellingwood got his turn.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mister Lewis, isn't it true that you met my client socially, before any of the victims had been killed?" Bellingwood was supremely confident in his cross-examination. Lewis noticed he consistently called him "Mister" rather than according him his rightful rank. He knew enough about trials to know that this would cause the jury to subconsciously come to view him as a mere civilian. Ambrose should have objected, and he found himself blaming her for the direction the trial had taken.

"Yes, Sir."

"And isn't it true that you telephoned her about a possible dinner date, but she declined such an invitation?"

The way it was worded, the question could only be answered one way, and Lewis recognized that the jury would read much more into the situation. "Well, it wasn't really a--"

"Yes or no, Mister Lewis, please. You know how this works." The patronizing indulgence of the tone made Lewis's bile rise.

His teeth clenched. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, could you say that louder, so the jury can hear?"

"YES." Lewis was certain the jury heard him the first time, some of them had smiled smugly and others exchanged glances. Bellingwood was intentionally humiliating him, wiping any trace of credibility from his earlier testimony.

"Ah, the spurned advance. It was after that when you decided she must be the murderer, wasn't it?"

"Yes." He shot a glance at Ginny. She appeared to be enjoying this almost as much as Bellingwood. _Does she hate me now?_

"And when you went to her house to arrest her, you didn't actually have any evidence that she was involved, is that correct?"

"Uh . . . no. Nothing concrete."

"Just old literary references, as you have already testified?"

At this point, Lewis surrendered any fight that was left in him. "Yes, just that."

Seeing his adversary mortally wounded was enough for Bellingwood. He knew further questioning by him could swing the sympathy of the jury the other way. "Nothing further, my lord."

"Miss Ambrose, redirect?"

Lewis hoped she would lead him through the dinner invitation fiasco so at least he could clear his reputation. But she hadn't learned of that until Bellingham's questioning and didn't have the confidence to let Lewis take the lead in testifying to his own story.

"No questions, my lord."

"Thank you, Inspector Lewis, you may step down."

He stayed in the courtroom, sitting in the back with his face in his hands, vaguely listening to the rest of what went on. If he went out into the hallway, reporters would find him instantly, and he absolutely could not face that now. The case was a shambles and it was all his fault.

Bellingwood moved for a directed verdict, arguing that the crown had not provided any evidence of his client's guilt, but the judge declined to take the case from the jury. The twelve men and women were sent out to deliberate, and the courtroom buzzed with quiet conversation, sounding like a beehive from the outside.

Less than an hour later, the jury called for the usher. They had a verdict.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Hathaway was surprised to see Innocent back at the station so early. He had expected the trial to last most of the day. She saw him watching her, and approached, shaking her head grimly.

"Ginny was acquitted. Not guilty."

"What?! How could the jury do that with her confession and all?

She blew out her cheeks. "Her confession didn't come in. You and Inspector Lewis failed to caution her when you arrested her. And she never admitted anything after that. There wasn't any other real evidence of her involvement."

Hathaway confusedly played back his memories of that day. They must have cautioned her, they always cautioned their suspects. But no, the moment had been so unexpected and so emotional that he only learned as she spoke what had happened. Certainly Lewis must have suspected more than himself, Lewis had read the chapter in that book. He was the one who put it all together. But Hathaway should have caught the procedural error before it was too late.

"There must be something the barrister could have argued. We didn't know she was going to admit to the murders."

"James, don't stew on it, it's too late to do anything now. Anyway, I was there when she confessed too, and I didn't notice the error, either." Innocent was uncharacteristically forgiving.

"So, she walks?"

"I'm afraid so."

"She might still go after Alice, Ma'am."

She looked at him in alarm. "Call and see if Alice would like an officer posted at the house."

Alice did want an officer there, and she was angry at the way the trial had come out. Hathaway had to take the force of her rage. He was shamed into not defending himself or Lewis at all. She was right to be angry. They had screwed up.

He reported this to Innocent, and then asked, "Where is Inspector Lewis, Ma'am? If the trial is over, shouldn't he be here?"

"I told him he could go home. He was devastated by the trial. The reporters were out for blood, too. I expect it was one of his worst days, professionally. You might call and see if he'll talk to you. He could use a little support right now, I think."

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

But Hathaway was unable to reach Lewis. The man did not answer his home phone, and his mobile was switched off. Hathaway drove over to Lewis's home, thinking maybe he had just shut out the world and was quietly getting drunk by himself, but his car was not there, no lights were on, and no one answered the buzzer.

Hathaway went back to the station to see if Lewis had shown up there. He saw Lewis's car in the car park, but the office was empty. Hathaway sat at his desk, trying to think of where Lewis might have gone. Although the older man was in no way secretive, Hathaway found it exceedingly difficult to try to get inside his head. All James could figure was that Lewis would be in a terrible mood, having been made into a complete fool during the trial, and no doubt feeling completely responsible for the acquittal of a woman they knew had committed two murders.

His mobile buzzed: _Hobson calling_.

"Laura, hi. What's up?"

"I heard about the verdict. I can't reach Lewis at all, and I suspect he shouldn't be alone right now."

Hathaway sighed. "I can't find him either. Any ideas?"

She was silent for a while. "Revisiting the scene of the crime? I mean, the scene of the cock-up?"

"Ginny lives out in the country, and his car is here. That also eliminates the Wishart place. Too far to go on foot. But there are some related places here in town he could be. Thanks for the suggestion. I'll give you a buzz when I find him."

Hathaway stepped out into the streets of the City. By now it was quite dark, and Hathaway knew Dorian's college would not be open to visitors. There were only a few undergraduates in the area where Dorian's body was found, walking in groups of twos and threes. He headed for the Eagle and Child, one of the pubs involved tangentially in the case.

Lewis was not there, but the bartender proved to be very helpful as soon as Hathaway described Lewis.

"Oh, yes, he was here for a while. He sat over there in the corner, seemed pretty sullen but he was quiet at least. But since he was so quiet I didn't realize how much he had to drink. The barmaid--that's Sarah--told me that in her opinion he'd had enough and she wasn't going to serve him anymore. She'd already brought him four double brandies. And we're generous with our spirits here, Sergeant."

Hathaway's eyebrows shot up at the amount Lewis had consumed. Not a good sign.

The bartender continued. "So then he had to come up to the bar to order, and that made it obvious to me that he was very intoxicated. He was staggering quite a bit, slurring his words. I turned him out at that point. At least he went quietly. I don't need trouble here."

"Any idea which way he went?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I told him he should go home, but who knows. He didn't argue, he just made his way out."

"And when was that?" Hathaway hoped he was not too far behind his boss.

"About twenty minutes ago, I'd say. And he wasn't moving very fast."

"Thanks for your help. Here's my card." Hathaway handed it over. "If he comes back, I'd appreciate it very much if you would please call me."

"Certainly, Sergeant."

Hathaway went out and wandered along the street. _Where else could he have gone?_ Hathaway could think of only one other place related to the case that could be reached by a drunken man on foot. _The river_. He turned his steps southeast.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Lewis stayed in the courtroom after everyone else left. Despite the misery he felt about the day's events, the spirit of the stately courtroom transcended his mood and calmed him. Yet how could the events here have strayed so far from what was just? There was no question she was the murderer, and they hadn't tricked Ginny into confessing. This was all about the consequences of sloppy police procedure. He'd gotten careless.

The usher found Lewis still there when he came to lock up.

"Sir? You need to go now."

Lewis looked up blankly. He felt no sense of place or time. _Who was this man? _

The usher reported his presence to the judge, who came out from his chambers and sat down next to Lewis. He spoke gently.

"Inspector Lewis, I'm sorry for the way the trial turned out. I'm afraid there was nothing I could do in light of . . . well, with the way things went. I think Miss Ambrose could have made a decent argument that you hadn't really decided to arrest Mrs. Harris until after she confessed, but she seemed unwilling, or perhaps unable, to try. I must say, I was impressed by the fact that you honored your oath and told the truth. It would have been fairly easy for you to lie and say you would have let her go or say that you had cautioned her, after all."

"No, you're wrong, my lord."

"Pardon? Wrong about what?"

"It would not have been at all easy for me to lie under oath. I don't think I could."

The usher let Lewis out a side door of the courthouse so he would be sure of avoiding any lingering reporters. Lewis knew the press would still be lurking in the car park and in front of the station. He couldn't go back there, and didn't want to go home. He wished he could somehow get away from himself, become someone different for a while. Someone who did not make crucial mistakes. Irredeemable mistakes.

* * *

A few hours later, Lewis was stumbling his way along the river path after leaving the Eagle and Child. He didn't really know where he was going, and he was barely able to stay upright. The trees spun around his head when he looked up, so he focused on the ground, looking at his shoes as he walked: left, right, left, right.

He stopped a moment, leaning against a tree, needing to relieve himself. After he finished and zipped up his trousers, he realized someone was standing nearby, watching him. He tried to focus, peering into the darkness. It looked a bit like Ginny. He squinted harder.

"Hello, Robbie."

It _was_ Ginny. His mind reeled. He tried to work out what that meant but he was unable to complete the thought.

"I was hoping to meet Alice here. But I understand you've placed her under police watch. So you've wrecked my plans for her, in addition to destroying my reputation. You know, the day I met you was the day everything began to go wrong in my life."

Her words were incomprehensible to him. He could only conclude that he was too drunk to make any sense of what she was saying. _And why did she have that knife?_

Ginny studied him as well as she could in the dark. She could see him swaying, see his unfocused, glassy eyes. That was enough to tell her she had a considerable advantage over him. She made no attempt to hide the knife.

"Robbie, you look at bit wobbly. Why don't you sit down?"

He furrowed his brow. He did not want to sit down, certainly not this close to the tree where he had just watered the ground. He started to move back toward the path, but Ginny pushed him, suddenly and violently, and he lost his balance. He came down hard on his hands and knees, grunting with the impact. She leapt onto his back, straddling him like a child getting a horsey ride from a parent. But there was nothing childish about the way she began to slash at him with the sharp knife.

She missed his neck but brought the blade down deep across his shoulder. He pitched forward and rolled onto her, trapping her leg beneath him. But she continued to strike at him and he could feel her hitting her mark with every blow. _Funny, it doesn't really hurt. Maybe that's the brandy. _

At last he grasped the blade itself and twisted it with all the strength he had left. It cut deeply into his palm and although he was able to wrest the knife away from her, he could not hold onto it with his ruined hand.

The knife slipped away, and Ginny scrambled out from under Lewis, shoving his face into the dirt and then madly searching the loam and dead leaves. Lewis could only watch from the ground, which was spinning beneath him. His stomach heaved but he was unable to vomit. He was no longer a part of that shell on the ground; he felt weightless and it seemed as if he were watching from a point about six feet above his body.

And so he was unable to act when he saw Ginny find the knife and turn on him, a red venom in her eyes.

"I hate you, Robert Lewis. I hate everything about you." She walked toward him-or, as it seemed in his view, toward his body-weaving the knife. He could not move, could not speak. The only thing he could do was think: _So this is how it's going to end for me_.

He closed his eyes and the world went black.


	8. Chapter 8

As he made his way along the path, Hathaway peered ahead into the darkness. He could hear a woman's voice, but could not understand the words. But when he clearly heard her say, _I hate you, Robert Lewis_, he broke into a run.

There were two figures just off the path ahead of him, one prone on the ground and the other crouching over the first. He saw a glint of something flash in the hand of the second.

Hathaway added a burst of speed and careered into the one crouching, bowling the person over. The momentum rolled them over on the ground, and Hathaway heard a sharp gasp. He recognized Ginny Harris as he pinned her to the ground, but she did not acknowledge him. She had a knife stuck in her heart and, as he watched, the life went out of her eyes.

* * *

Lewis slowly opened his eyes. The room was filled with light and it took him a while to ascertain that he was in hospital, rather than Heaven. His hand was heavily bandaged and he couldn't move much. In fact, a lot of him was heavily bandaged. He felt numb, physically and mentally.

He tried to sit up, but had no strength. His movement caught the attention of another person in the room, and James Hathaway appeared first in his peripheral view, and then directly in front of him.

"Inspector Lewis, Sir? You awake?"

God, it was good to hear his voice! Lewis stared at the younger man, hoping he would speak again. After several moments, he realized it might help if he answered.

"She ruined my new suit, didn't she?"

Hathaway snorted a little, and a small grin played on his lips. "Yes, Sir, your suit is in worse shape than you, I'd say."

"What happened, Hathaway? I thought . . ." He couldn't finish it. _I thought I died._

"Ginny attacked you with a knife. She cut you up quite a bit, but never managed to hit anything vital. Still, you lost a lot of blood. Or, I should say, you lost a lot of the blood-alcohol blend that was running through your veins at the time."

"What happened to Ginny?"

Hathaway was silent a moment. "She's dead. Fell on her own knife."

"So, justice was done in the end."

Neither man spoke for some time.

"Hathaway, I messed up. I forgot the basics, got too smug about solving a tough case. Innocent will probably have me hide. And I'll deserve it."

A voice came from a corner of the room. "I think you've been punished enough, Inspector. After all, I was there at the time, as well. I can hardly avoid sharing in the blame for what happened."

"Ma'am?" Lewis could not believe she was being so generous.

"You've been harder on yourself for this than I would ever be." She neared the bed, her eyes filled with such concern as he would not have anticipated.

"I'm just grateful we didn't lose you last night, Lewis. It was a very close call." She bent forward and kissed him on the forehead, then swiftly straightened and left the room.

Lewis glanced at Hathaway, puzzled. But his sergeant looked equally at sea. At last, Hathaway volunteered, "I think she feels guilty about trying to fix you up with Ginny. Or at least, she _should_ do."

Despite the seriousness of Hathaway's expression, Lewis chuckled at that. Then he held his ribs. "Ow. Don't make me laugh anymore, alright, Hathaway? If you can control it, that is?"

"Sorry, Sir. I can't." And he smiled.

"Fine. Make me laugh, then. I could use it. And as soon as I get out of here, you're helping me buy a new suit."


End file.
